Poison
by PagetPaulson
Summary: He'd never been allergic.


Hotch watched his subordinates walk into their makeshift bullpen in the police station they had been asked to visit with a curious eye. Emily and Dave had been sent out into the woods to inspect the crime scenes and the former was scratching ferociously at her arm. "Emily," he nodded over to the younger brunette. Waving her over to the table where he stood by their IT whiz they'd invited on this case. "What's going on?"

The Italian followed the younger woman over to their boss with a grin plastered to his face. "Leaves of three, leave them be."

Emily rolled her eyes, turning away from her Unit Chief to look back at the man behind her. "You know if I have it then you have it too." She took the alcohol swab Garcia gave her with a grateful glance.

"I'm Italian, it knows better."

Hotch grimaced at the sigh of the brunette woman's elbow as she rolled up her sleeve to lay the wet nap against her irritated skin. Her alabaster skin was torn up by those nails she always bit at, and around the bloodied skin were growing spots of an angry pink.

"Sweetcheeks," Garcia frowned, her eyes averting from the poison spreading over the brunette's skin and glanced up to Emily's face with big eyes. "Are you ok?"

"I feel like I need to boil my skin," she groaned, quickly taking the hand she was using to scratch and rubbed it against her covered hip. Now her hand was starting to itch.

Hotch left the three agents on their own and went to one of the closest officers, taking out his phone as he asked for directions to the nearest pharmacy.

Emily did her best to keep her hands flat on the conference table as they went over the profile they had so far, but her nails started clawing into the wood, her muscles starting to strain as she tried to stop herself from reaching back to her arm to scratch the poison ivy.

"Sweetie, I think you need to get that treated," Garcia said with a grimace. "It doesn't look good."

Morgan walked in with two coffees in hand. "Princess," he grinned, making his way over and setting the cup down before her. "Special for you."

The brunette looked to the coffee and sighed, her jaw clenching as she kept her hands away from her itchy skin.

"Girl, what the hell is that?"

Emily groaned, pulling her sleeves back down to hide the rash.

Garcia shared a pout with her beautiful brunette friend before looking up to the man she called her best friend. "Emily had a run in with a not so very nice Mr. Ivy."

"Damn girl. You should go back to the hotel."

Before the agent herself could open her mouth to fire back at the younger man about how she wouldn't leave the rest of the team here to do the work without her, she heard her boss' voice from behind her.

"I'll drive her," Hotch spoke up, his head in a file he was carrying back into the room. "Come on," he nodded, pulling Emily's chair out and letting her stand. "We'll go and pick up some calamine lotion and stop the itching."

Emily kept herself quiet and followed her boss through the police station and out the door, her hand immediately going back to her arm to continue its scratching.

Hotch waited until they were both in the SUV before taking the brunette by the wrist. "Stop," he ordered, looking the younger woman hard in the eye. "You'll scar if you keep scratching." Watching as she sunk back in her seat with a pout, the Unit Chief pulled out of the police station's parking and followed the directions he had plugged into his GPS. "We'll get some calamine lotion from the pharmacy and you'll soak in the tub before you apply it, ok? That way it won't be as irritated."

The brown eyed woman looked over to the older man, her hands clenching in her lap. "You allergic too?"

"Jack is," he nodded. "He's gotten it twice and this worked both times. I've never had it." Looking over to his friend, he smirked. "Not yet, at least."

Emily held back her laughter. "Yeah well don't get too close."

They pulled in and out of the pharmacy within five minutes and were on the way to the hotel when Emily felt that painful itching move up her arm and around to her shoulder. "Fuck."

Hotch saw the younger woman reaching for her shoulder as they pulled into the hotel's parking lot. "What's wrong?"

"I think it's spreading," she rushed out, immediately taking off her seatbelt and getting herself out of the car. "I have to get into the tub now."

The Unit Chief was surprised with the speed Emily took off with and he was quick on her trail, following her through the lobby and into the elevator. "Warn me next time?" he asked, his hand wanting to lay at his chest as he felt his heart speed up.

Emily smirked over to her friend. "Too much for you, old man?"

Hotch shared a smile with the agent before following her out of the elevator and to her room. "Go and take a bath," he nodded, watching as she practically sprinted for the bathroom. "Call me when you're out, ok? I have to run back to the station."

Once the bathroom door was closed, Emily shed her shirt. "Hotch," she called, her eyes wide. "Do you think you can stay here?"

"What's wrong?"

Her rash had spread all over her stomach and her back. "It's worse," she choked out, trying hard not to itch at the newly irritated skin. "It's everywhere. I don't know if I can put the lotion everywhere on my back."

Hotch sighed, sitting himself down on the foot of her bed, worrying for the woman he called his friend on the other side of the door. "I'll be right here."

Sinking into the warm water she filled the tub with, the brunette woman let out a breath, the air blowing from between her lips leaving ripples in the water. She could feel the cold of the bathtub against her back and let her eyes close, leaning into it. She had gone forty years without getting poison ivy, learning from her papa how to tell the leaves apart when they would be at his cabin up in the mountains, and here she was sick on a case.

Her ears perked up at the sound of the television turn on out in her bedroom, and Emily immediately felt herself blush. Her boss was just outside and she was stark naked.

"Emily? How's it going?"

Emily couldn't help her snort. _How was it going?_ "It feels better," she called back, sitting straighter in the tub and reaching for the towel. "I'm coming out." Maybe once she had the lotion on she could get back to work.

Part of the older man hoped for his friend to come out in a towel, _so he could see every inch of irritated skin_ is what he told himself, and he fell away from the door as it opened.

"Hey," she sighed, rolling her shoulders as she felt the itch start to come back. "Let's hurry up and get this stuff on," the brunette laughed, "I don't want this to get worse."

Hotch sat down beside the younger woman and took out the lotion they had bought at the pharmacy, taking the cotton balls from the plastic bag on the bed. "Arm please."

Emily smiled to her friend as he helped her, starting to apply to pink lotion to the pink blotches she had on her arm. "Am I as good a patient as Jack?"

The Unit Chief let out a laugh, his mind immediately wandering to the boy who was the center of his world. "You aren't whining," he nodded, "and you aren't talking only about dinosaurs, so I'm going to say yes. But don't let him know that."

"He's still in that dinosaur phase?"

"Dinosaurs and monster trucks," Hotch agreed. "I keep trying to tell him they don't go together, but he doesn't seem to care."

Emily gave a chuckle, letting the older man roll up the t-shirt she had put on to get to her shoulder. "Is this really bad?" she asked. "Did Jack have it this bad?"

"Depends on how long you were in or near the plant," he shrugged. "First time he was standing in it for almost ten minutes before his teacher noticed, and he had to go to the hospital."

The agent's jaw dropped. Poor Jack.

"But it goes away in a couple of days."

Emily rolled her eyes, shaking her head as if she were shaking off the words the older man was telling her. "I just have to get back to work."

Hotch eyed the younger woman, his brow arched. "If this doesn't go away by tomorrow you still can't come back to the station."

"But I-"

"Do you want to spread this to the rest of the department?"

Emily huffed, her shoulders slouching.

Hotch looked to the brunette by his side and hid his smile. He knew the younger woman very well, and having her stay in the hotel for the rest of the case would drive her stir crazy.

"Can you at least send me some case files?" she asked, her hand immediately going for the cotton balls on the bed to help her boss along, dabbing the lotion near her inner elbow. "I can help that way, right?"

The older man nodded his head. "I wouldn't want you to be dormant," he joked, almost laughing as Emily looked to him with wide eyes. "I'd have to fire you."

Emily stuck her tongue out. "Funny." She covered her stomach with the pink lotion, the bright dots covering her abs and the freckle she had just above her belly button before she felt herself frown.

"What's wrong? Does it still itch?"

The agent grimaced, doing her best to reach behind her and down her shirt to get to an itchy spot in the center of her back. "I can't reach it," she almost hissed through her teeth, stretching her arm as best she could.

Hotch gestured for her to move back on the bed and he turned her, keeping his tongue from running over his chapping lips as he started to lift her shirt. "Is this ok?"

Emily kept her eyes at the wall above her bed, her hands on her knees. She silently nodded her head, too afraid to speak in case she heard her voice crack, Hotch's fingers skimming her skin as he dabbed the lotion against her rash.

"I can't believe it spread this fast," he mumbled to himself, keeping his mind focused on the rash and not the alabaster skin that surrounded it.

She brought her hair up and off her neck, his breath against her skin making her shiver.

Hotch looked up when he felt her tremble. "Are you ok?" He threw the used cotton ball into the trash can he'd brought next to the bed, wiping his hands against the napkins he'd bought.

"Yeah."

Her voice was different than he'd ever heard it before, and he set his hand flat against her back.

Emily let her head turn just slightly to see the older man behind her, and she felt him move closer to her on the bed. "Hotch," her voice waivered, feeling his chest against her back. She let his nose brush hers as his hand on her back glided along her skin to her front and cupped her breast.

The gasp that left Emily's lips had Hotch immediately straining against his slacks.

"Please," she whispered, letting go of her hair and cupping her hand over his that squeezed at her breast. Her lips parted, his brushing over hers as his other hand wrapped around her and snuck underneath her sweat pants.

"Are you ok?"

Her head nodded quickly, her eyes slamming shut when his hand cupped her mound. She immediately went to help him get her sweats down around her knees, her breathing growing heavy as she felt his buckle coming undone against her back. Reaching behind her, the brunette woman let her hand cup the older man through his boxers, her teeth gnawing needily into her bottom lip when he groaned against her ear.

Shoving her underwear aside, the Unit Chief didn't hesitate before thrusting himself into his subordinate, both of their bodies falling forward.

Emily made her back arch just perfectly so his tip thrust so far in that it almost bumped her cervix. "Harder," she grunted out, her hands gripping the sheets as his hands ran down her back.

He was surprised his hips didn't dislocate as he fastened his pace, the sound of his balls against her skin and the brunette's moans forcing him to speed up.

Reaching down, Emily let her fingers grip the base of her boss' shaft and gave a firm squeeze, her heavy lidded eyes widening as she smirked, hearing him groan behind her. "Come on," she urged, thrusting back against him. "Make me cum, Aaron."

Hearing his first name on her tongue hand his hands gripping her harder and his thrusts out of sync.

"I c-can't," she stuttered, her head falling forward as she felt her clitoris start to tingle. "I can't hold it!"

"Don't hold it," he ordered, his voice sending a chill down her spine. He gave a firm squeeze to her ass, his nails drawing blood, and he had her falling apart before him.

She couldn't even understand the noises she was making - were they moans, whimpers...maybe they were high pitched grunts - they were practically deafening to her own ears as she fell forward, her forehead against the comforter as Hotch's thrusts slowed, his hand smoothing over the flesh of her ass.

"Shit."

Lifting her head, the brunette let herself moisten her lips before turning her head, her eyes immediately attaching to the angry pink spots around her boss' wrist. "Shit."


End file.
